Blacklight: After the Fall
by A Mountain Sage
Summary: A new virus arose and with it humanity fell. As the dead roam the earth, those that survive must pick the pieces from the ashes and discover the grand conspiracy of the outbreak. Just who are the Templars? Why have the Lycans deigned to serve them? Secrets abound in a dead city... Large Multi-Crossover DISCONTINUED
1. A Vision of Today

**Location: Vault, Colony 2A**

**Date: May 16, 2014**

**Non-Infected Population: 55,324**

**Infected Population: 0**

"Alice Moresby, please report to the medical wing." A pleasantly sanguine voice emanated from the omnipresent speakers. Ten year old Alice looked up from her book in open mouthed shock. Under her scrutiny, the speakers spoke once more. "Alice Morseby, please report to the medical wing." She had listened to that calm feminine voice announce everything from breakfast time to curfew each day of her life for the past year, but never had she heard her own name spoken by the guiding hand of life in this place. So stunned was she that it took until the fourth repetition of the message for Alice to fully grasp its content. She sprung up from the faux grass of the town green and sprinted to her own home, just next to the green across Jefferson St., third house from the right with the red door. Alice's mother was already exiting the red door, an uncertain look on her face.

"Mommy! Mommy!" The girl latched onto her mother's hand and started to drag her down their stoop. "The voice said I have to go!" Alice was excited, she had her name spoken over the loudspeaker. She'd heard the speaker calling people to places occasionally before of course, but never anyone she knew. This made her special. It made that day special, a break from the endless stream of boring days in the Vault, days that never changed or deviated from her schedule. Even a trip to the doctor's office was worth that.

"Oh!" Her mother was still recovering from her daughter's sudden increase in energy. "Yes, sweety, I heard." She tugged back on her hand and started walking side by side with Alice.

"I-I suppose it's your checkup. You haven't had one since you've been here." She offered an indulging smile. She had been very indulging ever since her husband was lost in the outbreak. Alice looked straight ahead with a single-minded excitement, but her mother took in the sights around them. The false painted blue sky and the great lamps in impersonating the sun glared down upon the colony, illuminating the many messages scrawled along the walls in official big letters, 'The Surface is Inhospitable, The Colony is a Safe Zone', 'Trust Antigen, We'll keep you Safe' and 'Cooperate with the Antigen Corporation' along with a hundred other slogans and platitudes. They passed by many people on their way down the street, all gave them cursory curious looks, and all headed on their way. People had a way of keeping themselves busy, even when the world was over. Finally the gargantuan central pillar of the great cavernous colony chamber came into view. The red cross and massive Antigen sign stood glowing crimson above medical facility entrance set in the pillar itself. Alice skipped through the door with energetic abandon. She broke her grip on her mother's hand and breezed through the waiting room. Only a handful of patients sat there, none with anything more serious than the common cold in all likelihood. Alice stopped in front of the front desk and grinned at the nurse behind it.

"I'm here! I'm Alice!" The nurse smiled back. Alice's mother came up behind her.

"Yes, she's here." She placed her hands on her daughter's shoulders and smiled herself. "May I ask what this is about?"

"Oh, nothing to be concerned about. This is just a routine medical exam." The smile was well practiced, too well practiced for either Alice or her mother to see its falsehood. "Please just step through the door." She pressed a key in front of her and the sliding white doors slid open near silently. Alice's mother took her by the hand and led her down the revealed hall, all stark white. The elevator at the end of the hall opened and two men emerged. Both wore the grey uniforms and black kevlar vests of security guards, Antigen logos emblazoned upon their caps and shirts. Alice felt her mother slow to a stop and looked up to see her frowning. The door behind them slid shut.

"We'll take it from here Ma'am," One of the security guards said gruffly. He advanced and moved to take Alice's free hand. Alice' mother pulled her closer.

"It's just a checkup, can't I go with her?" The guards glanced at one another. One reached out and took hold of Alice by the forearm and forcefully yanked her away from her mother. The girl gasped in pain at the power of the grip.

"This is routine Ma'am, just go back to your home." The second guard stood forward and imposed himself between the parent and child.

"Mommy?" Alice cried in panic, the guard pulled her roughly along behind him.

"Let her go!" Her mother cried in panic. She tried to push her way past the guard but he grabbed her shoulders in vice like grips. Her hands flew up and her nails raked bloody trenches into his face. The guard howled in pain, but his hand lashed out. The woman was lifted clear off her feet by the force of the blow. She impacted the wall with a cracking noise. Her head lolled to the side at a strange angle and she lay still.

"Mommy!" Alice cried, now nearly sobbing, all excitement forgotten, replaced with shock and fear.

"Ah, shit." The guard holding her stopped and swore. "Now what?"

"We let the higher ups decide what to tell the sheep," The other guard touched the cuts in his face, already starting to heal. "You take the girl, I'll call this in." He grabbed one of Alice's mother's limp arms and started to drag the corpse toward the elevator. Alice started to cry, she had never been so frightened.

"What are you doing?"

"Not letting fresh meet go to waste, now shut that brat up." Abruptly Alice felt a something pressed over her mouth and nose. She registered a sickeningly sweet smell before blackness took her and all her fear with it.

**Location: Vault, Administrative Sector, Director's Office**

**Date: May 16, 2014**

**Non-Infected Population: 1**

**Infected Population: 1**

"God damnit! I told you, we can't afford any more deaths!" Linus only sighed and spread his hands in the face of the shouting man.

"What do you want me to do, Charon? The woman was a problem; we wouldn't have been able to reintroduce her into the population anyway with what she saw." Charon sat back into his desk chair and groaned. He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. His exhaustion was readily apparent in his body language, not to mention the sweat stains on his white button down shirt. He replaced his glasses and returned his attention to the computer console in front of him.

"They were supposed to convince the woman to stay in the waiting room, not grab her daughter right out of her arms. I'm working with idiots here." He had no eyes for Linus anymore; his screen was awash with test subject assignments, statistics for civilian population projections, experimental results, and civilian reactions to the disappearances. The security chief rolled his eyes at the station head's anger.

"It's not like she wasn't going to die anyway, you had her flagged as a viral test subject." He leaned against the wall and folded his thick muscled arms.

"Exactly, the daughter goes to the Pariah Project while the mother goes to the test labs." Charon swung his chair around to meet Linus' gaze. "She was supposed to be useful, not lunch for you and your dogs." Linus was half a foot taller than his superior while standing, he towered over him with the other sitting. He was hardly intimidated by the irritated glare and had too thick a skin for such an insult.

"So you approve the transfer?" Charon sighed and broke eye contact, punching in a few keys.

"It's on the books now so to speak. Mary Moresby transferred to lycan feeding supplies, you do realize we have clone meat for that?"

"Tastes bland." Linus deadpanned.

"Just make sure your men do their jobs down there with all the charm and friendliness they can muster." The words 'charm and friendliness' were dripping with sarcasm. "We have these people thinking the infection was stopped through nuclear annihilation, surface uninhabitable. We need them feeling safe and secure."

"Usual procedure?"

"We tell the civilians that the Moresbys were transferred to a different Colony facility, manufacture a few post cards and emails, yes, the usual. Just tell your thugs to remember what their jobs are."

"Will do sir." Linus spoke with wry amusement. "Right after I do a surface patrol and review with the surveillance teams." Charon didn't bother to respond, the conversation was over. Linus stepped away from the wall and moved outside the facility chief's office. This level of the facility was always too clean for his liking, if truth be told. The walls and ceilings were pristine white, the floor was a black so polished it may as well have been a mirror. He took pleasure in leaving a few scuff marks, though he knew somebody would remedy that in a matter of hours. He stepped into the elevator and glanced at the display.

INSTALLATION: VAULT: BASEMENT LEVEL 28, ADMINISTRATIVE SECTOR

"Surface," He said in a bored tone. "Authorization, Alpha-C9." The doors shut with a click and he felt inertia pulling him towards the floor as the elevator rocketed upward. When the door slid open, he could see clear blue sky. He treasured these surface trips. He could ignore the low hum of the walkers in the streets below; he could ignore the lack of any typical city noise. He could ignore it all to feel a real breeze on his face and see the clear true sky. He would have preferred night on the full moon instead of a cloudless sunny day but he wasn't picky.

"A better world," He stepped out of the elevator and watched it seal itself behind him, blending in seamlessly with the surrounding stonework. "Or at least a quieter one." He considered using his radio to get the reports he needed, but only for a moment. He needed a good run. He carefully began to undress. First went his black leather jacket, then the bulletproof vest and his gray t-shirt. The jeans and his underwear came next. He neatly folded each garment and placed them in a waiting duffel bag. He took a moment to look at the city. Then the change was upon him.

"RAAGH!" He snarled as his bones shifted, skeletal structure altering, expanding, strengthening. His muscles burned as they too changed. His jaw lengthened, even his teeth enlarging and sharpening to points. The change was always painful. It was a wonderful, terrible thing, to feel one's true strength come to the surface. When he stood in the full form of a lycan, he snatched up the duffel and began to run. He bounded across rooftops and over alleys, there were no humans to worry about, but there were somethings in this city even he preferred not to attract the attention of. His destination was an old office building. Most of the floors were swarming with Walkers, but not the 34rth. It had been specifically cleared for the surveillance team. He leapt the gap between builds and through a window long since shattered. In a matter of moments he was in human guise again. He opened his duffel and dressed briskly. He ran a hand through his short brown hair and glanced at his own reflection in a piece of broken glass. His was a well groomed handsome face, if a little older than most immortals would like to appear. Ripping himself from vanity, he opened the office door. A young lycan lay slumped against a desk. Not dead, just napping. Linus strode to him and pushed the man's chair over. He flailed with a cry as he hit the floor.

"What the- Sir! I'm sorry about that!" He babbled. Linus was not fazed.

"I assume you and your partner have the reports?"

"Just getting the last one now, sir." Another lycan entered the room, this one much more compose. He lay his bulging manila folder atop a stack of similar folders and presented them to Linus. The elder lycan opened the first one and started to scan through it.

"Give me the highlights." The two glanced at one another before the sitting one began speaking.

"A group of survivors seemed to have responded that radio transmission about a cure we've been broadcasting. They set up camp inside a shopping mall downtown. The head count is fifteen. Twelve of them have been identified as survivors from previous outbreak tests, the last three are... Well, the file for them was above our pay grade." Linus stared at the names on the list with renewed interest.

"This is good, anything else?" He noted that they seemed more nervous than before. This would not please him, he guessed.

"Some of our scouts in the countryside sent word about a caravan heading towards the city, an armed caravan covered in Blackwatch patches." That tore his eyes away from the report.

"You think it's Colonel Rooks?" One can cut loose a tool like Blackwatch when a better one became available, but one must be very thorough in its disposal. They had clearly not been thorough.

"A few scouts claim they actually saw him... There is one other thing." The lycan withdrew several photos from the stack. Displayed upon them were various vehicles, all well worn and some armored. Linus frowned.

"What am I looking at?"

"These vehicles were shadowing the Blackwatch caravan. The scouts didn't see very much, but they thought they might be lower vampires." Linus raised an eyebrow critically.

"The vampires are nearly extinct." Once again the two shared a glance. If their current track record over the past few minutes was anything to go by, he wouldn't like what came next either.

"It looks like two of the scouts decided to... help them along towards extinction. They burned out several nests, we even lost a few of ours. They're definitely vampires." He cleared his throat. "Ahem, should we organize a hunt?"

"No," He frowned. "They won't dare enter the city, not with it swarming with walkers. Keep eyes on them." he fixed them with a icy look. "And tell our men that the next time one of them decides to 'take the initiative' I'll discipline them myself. Is that clear?"

"Crystal." The sitting lycan breathed nervously. Linus placed the reports in his duffel and strode to the window overlooking the city. He could see straight down the biggest avenue of the city from here, the sea of Walkers meandering along ineluctably. He still needed one more report.

"Tell me about James Heller." There was silence for a moment. Then the seated lycan spoke up.

"Um, there have been a handful of substantial sightings. It looks like he's made his roost in an old industrial plant on the other side of town. He caught a scout of ours, but he activated his 'Flashburn' contingency. Heller got nothing."

"Make sure our eyes keep as far away from him as they can while still tracking his movements." Linus stared out the window for a long time. "Well," The security chief sighed. "Safe to say, things are about to get much more interesting around here."

**Location: City Surface**

**Date: May 16, 2014**

**Non-Infected Population: 128**

**Infected Population: 2,001,343**


	2. Welcome to the Dead City

_In which:_

_The Black Army is entrenched,  
_

_The Wolf Mother searches for her pups,  
_

_The Death Dealer pursues her beloved,  
_

_and the Alpha starts his hunt  
_

* * *

Douglas Rooks liked to keep things simple.

He received orders, he did his job, he got paid, he went back to his family.

Douglas Rooks hadn't had things go the way he liked in a very long time. The infection could not be contained in the first place, not this time. To make matters worse, he was a believer. He believed in Blackwatch's mission, to contain viral outbreaks and for that he was even willing to facilitate their study. Some men might have given up as society and the chain of command fell down around them. Colonel Douglas Rooks, however, was a believer. As far as he was concerned, the mission hadn't failed until he was infected or dead. He made that clear to his men. The executions of the deserters were more than adequate in getting his point across. He doubted he had a family to get back to at this point, but he would fulfill his mission. That was what he had left. The infection would be contained, but first they needed to find those responsible.

"Colonel?" Lieutenent O'brien asked for his orders. Rooks stood atop the lead APC. He had already ordered a full stop. The bulk of the city's skyscraper filled downtown lay ahead of them, the outskirts lay behind. Rooks' grim set expression didn't stray from the city as he replied.

"Circle up the wagons, O'brien. We're setting up base camp." O'brien removed his mask, a bulky muscular man with a scarred jagged face, he struck a formidable figure. Wiping his shaved head, O'brien turned to the men and touched the transmitter in his ear.

"This is O'brien, deploy the barricades. This will be our home for awhile and we don't want Walkers wandering in, do we?" It struck Rooks, as he watched his men dutifully preparing the fortifications, that commanding a small army of borderline psychopaths was actually made easier by the outbreak. Now, they literally had nowhere else to go and were dependent on him for survival.

"Small blessings," he mused. His eyes fell on the only individuals in the entire convoy not dressed in Blackwatch gear from head to toe. They'd called themselves the Wolfpack. He had demanded information on them before he had let them join the convoy. Under normal circumstances, he doubted they would have been accepted into Blackwatch. The group used to be a part of the Umbrella Corporation's private security force. They cleaned up messes and made sure nobody knew what happened. Of course, then they turned on their employer. That action would have probably disqualified them for Blackwatch action. Blackwatch needed agents that were trustworthy. These were, of course, extraordinary times.

"Two hundred men," He brooded. "And only fifteen Project Orion soldiers." Against the Walker infested city, it was a pittance. If the city was what he thought it was, there were much more dangerous things in these streets. Still, he had O'brien. Lieutenant Jacob O'brien was a Specialist, a soldier specially trained to fight infected beings on equal ground using top of the line weaponry. Rumor had it they were partially infected themselves, though Rooks didn't put much stock in it. He scrutinized the sun, just now touching the horizon between two buildings. That presented another problem.

"Make sure you get those UV lights up, Lieutenant!" He hollered. They had been stalking them for days, a threat he honestly wasn't sure how to deal with. He'd lost ten men to them so far, corpses drained dry from up to a dozen different bites. Vampires... He had hardly believed it when Blackwatch was tasked with carrying out the American purges, but apparently they hadn't been thorough enough. These they called Creepers, the devolved lesser cousins of the vampires they'd seen then. Much as the lycan Ferals became starved and shrunken, so did the vampires now take on more animalistic traits. He'd seen their long claw-like nails, distorted faces, hairless bodies, the extended fangs and unkempt appearances. They scrambled about like rabid animals.

"Should I organize another hunt, sir?" O'brien had already set the grunts to work on the defenses. He looked calm, cool, and collected. Rooks was very thankful for that. A few of the other soldiers had actually been eager for a vampire hunt. Those crazies were the ones that didn't make it back.

"You burned a few of their nests last time, Lieutenant, but they keep coming." Rooks watched the brilliant disc of the sun moving lower with each moment, dying the sky a vibrant red. "We're the only fucking buffet table in a hundred miles to them. They'll keep coming. Just make sure they can't get in. We're staying put." The infection was lethal to vampires, hopefully the proximity of the city would ward them off. Ferals were another issue, but they hadn't seen a pack in days.

"Sir!" Rooks groaned and twisted to glare at the offending soldier.

"What?" The soldier hesitated at his vehemence, but only for a moment.

"One of the APCs is missing, sir!"

"Missing? What the hell do you mean missing?" Rooks growled. A suspicion surfaced in his mind. "Where're those Wolfpack bastards?"

"They're missing, sir." The soldier reported with fear instilled coolness. Rooks clenched his fist and gritted his teeth. He'd had his men keeping an eye on them! If they hadn't reported... Rooks stared at his fist and resisted the burst of rage welling up inside his chest. Practicality first, the men were gone but they needed all the transports they could get.

"O'brien," Rooks said carefully. "I have a mission for you: bring me their fucking heads and get back that APC. Take whatever you need." O'brien, composed as ever, saluted.

"Yes sir."

* * *

Lupo had never been a religious woman, even when she was Karen. It rather clashed with habits and manners of a killer for hire. But now, she prayed. She had found herself praying more and more often over the past year, praying for the impossible.

"Lord, keep them safe." Philippe and Michelle, "Keep them safe."

"You say something, jefe?" Karen disappeared, swallowed by Lupo.

"No," She said firmly. "Keep your eyes on the road, Beltway." She scanned the rapidly darkening city in front of them. The steady rumble of the APC as it ineluctably crushed rubble and stray Walkers alike was fortunately not quite loud enough to attract a whole herd. She twisted around in her seat to the rest of the passengers. "Spectre, anything?"

"Not a damn thing. Just walking corpses." He grumbled and swore colorfully in Russian under his breath. "We shouldn't even be here..." Vector stirred from his own seat and placed a firm hand on the Russian's shoulder.

"Don't start," Spectre shook him off.

"Why the hell not? Why are we risking our necks for a few long dead brats! What are they doing here anyway? I thought you were French!"

"Philippe got a job here," Karen found herself muttering before she could stop herself. "He took his sister with him, to look after her..." Nobody seemed to have heard. The cloaked soldier was suddenly grasping Spectre's shoulder swift as a whisper, harder this time.

"We agreed to stay together," His voice was cold and sharp. "We agreed to help Lupo so the team wouldn't fracture. If you want out, we can let you out here and you can try your luck with Blackwatch." Lupo glanced at the other female members of the squad. They had yet to speak a word. Four Eyes had her nose buried a notebook, no doubt her observations on the latest viral specimens. Bertha had perked up slightly, looking between the two men with an air of anticipation. She was probably hoping violence would ensue.

"Don't make me pull this thing over, chicos," The large puerto rican warned. "Besides, Spectre, those Blackwatch guys would blow your skull off before you could say 'I surrender'." The russian's body was tense with rage, but it slowly drained. He shoved Vector's hand off him and set back to his watch with a stream of muttered curses.

"Settle down and be quiet, remember where we are." Lupo snapped.

"A place that makes Raccoon city look like a seaside picnic?" Beltway offered. Karen sighed and resumed her scanning of the streets.

"Shut up, Beltway."

* * *

It had once disconcerted Selene that she required so little sleep. Even as a simple vampire, she tired and slumbered during the day. Now that she was something more, she hardly ever felt fatigue. She was rejuvenated after a few minutes of idle rest. After unusual circumstances, she might actually sleep, but never for more than an hour. It was a useful trait when one was on the run. Her shocking pale blue eyes settled on her daughter's slumbering form. She could be stronger than Selene herself, but that was only potential yet. For now, she slumbered.

"Don't try to hide, David." Selene's eyes flickered to the open back of the van. Night had just fallen and a fog had rolled in, casting the world in a murky gloom. The younger vampire stepped out from around the door with a sheepish look.

"I suppose you're still six centuries older than me." His smile remained. The novelty of sunlight had yet to wear, even after all this time. Traveling by day had given him an upbeat attitude. His eyes turned on Eve with some concern. "Is it normal for her to sleep so much?"

"Nothing is normal about Eve." Selene sighed. She pushed a strand of hair from her daughter's face. "But none of us have fed in some time, and her body is still growing." As humans had grown more scarce, Selene had shared her own blood with Eve. Now, they all needed to keep up their strength and Selene could not afford to be weakened. "Did you see them?"

"I saw a few Creeper nests, none too close. There aren't any Walkers nearby." The lower vampires had taken to mobile layers. Trucks with large trailers, RVs, even vans like their own, they chose anything they could make impervious to daylight and drive at night. They fed in a radius centered on those nests, hunting humans or any animals they could find, anything that wasn't a Walker.

"The humans?" She noted his evasion of the subject. The young vampire frowned. Something about the humans clearly bothered him.

"They set up camp just inside the city limits, and by set up camp I mean they've put a fortress up for themselves. They aren't normal military, Selene." He climbed into the van and sat down, his smile breaking down entirely. "They're called Blackwatch." Selene blinked.

"I suppose there's more to them than a sinister name."

"They are, or were, an American military branch created to stop the spread of viral outbreaks. Rumor has it they were the ones that carried out the purges in the United States." His eyes flickered to Eve. "Are you sure this is the city she saw?"

"She says this was the one." Eve had seen through her father's eyes not three days prior. "Michael was approaching the city, we just need to find him." This was the closest they had come to him in months. She did not intend to lose him again. With that in mind, Selene reached into the covered crate that took up near half the space in the van. It was their arsenal, an array of weapons liberated from military, law enforcement, and even old Death Dealer caches. It was a weapon from the latter that she drew first. It was an old but well maintained broadsword, she unsheathed it and examined the silver plated blade that glimmered in the moonlight. Munitions were scarce, it served to be a touch old fashioned. David raised an eyebrow.

"You plan to go out alone?" Selene sheathed the sword and plucked an automatic pistol from the crate.

"Stay here with her," She checked the clip and took several extra. "I'll be back in a few hours."

"Can I ask you a question?" The younger vampire said after a moment. Selene paused and gave him her full attention, detecting frustration in his tone. "After you find Michael... What then? You used to tell me that we'd fight the lycans and help the vampires fight for survival, but that was before the world became... This." He gestured towards the outside. Selene looked away for a moment in thought. Then she looked him in the eye with a gaze full of conviction.

"It's not so different, David. We'll find those responsible for the outbreak and we'll do everything we can to stop them. I promise you that." He dropped his eyes accepting if not happy with her answer. There was nothing more to say. Selene slipped out of the van and into the night.

Selene moved with sublime grace and her bounds quickly grew to inhuman lengths. The humidity laden night air was like an old friend save for the stench on the breeze: decaying flesh. In a leap, she was moving along the raised highway. The darkened city rose before her as a necropolis, the buildings great crypts only the dead could call home. She could here them now even as she passed above them, the shuffling trudging footsteps and the flat ravening growls. A human could have heard them, for the wretched noise arose from every street, avenue, alley and court. To Selene, the cacophony was deafening. She came to a stop where the highway overpassed one of the larger streets. A different noise made its way to her, distinctly the rumble of an engine and wheels crushing rubble, flesh and bone.

Then she was on the move once more, a silent wraith. She found the APC three streets away, nudging its way through rusted cars. Selene knelt on the overlooking roof. All she knew of Michael's circumstances was that he was in the company of humans. The APC bore Blackwatch's emblem, but for all she knew they drafted him not knowing he was anything but human. The vehicle grinded to a halt in front of an apartment building. It was an older brick structure, black painted fire escapes along its facade. The red bricks were faded with their age and ivy clung to the side, nearly covering a fourth of the building.

"Everybody out, this is the place." A woman's voice, accented. Selene would place her nationality in France. Soldiers clad in gray and black filed out and she made note of each one. The Frenchwoman was tall, fair, light brown haired and, by her mannerisms, the one in charge. There were two other woman and three men. One was a pale raven haired woman of Asian descent, she almost immediately knelt by a Walker crushed beneath the APC's wheel, still flailing weakly, and jabbed a needle in its chest. The other was a blonde woman, face totally obscured by her gas mask. All of the men were similarly attired, though not even their hair was visible. The largest man of the group towered over the others. If Selene was not mistaken, she spied a great deal more explosives on his person than the rest. Of the final two men, one wore a gray hood and the other was clad all in black with extended lens on his gas mask, likely night vision goggles of some kind. Each and every one of them had military grade weaponry in hand or on their person. The vampire stood.

"Eh? What the fuck?" The black clad man muttered as he peered upward at her former position.

"Spectre?" The Frenchwoman called out.

"I thought I heard something..." The man, whose accent was heavily russian, began to adjust his mask and craned his neck looking about the rooftops. Selene remained deathly still in her new perch behind a water tower. His equipment was more advanced than she had credited.

"Keep sharp and keep quiet," the frenchwoman snapped. "Beltway, get that door open!" They moved swiftly and efficiently, positioning themselves on either side of the door. Selene had no doubt this was a well trained team. The double doors were busted inwards with a muffled crash of bending metal and shattering glass. Selene heard something else, a crisp metallic click. Her eyes zeroed in on the noise in mere moments. A man in a window across the street. He held something in his hand, a remote of some kind. Then he was gone. A sinking feeling developed in her gut as a corresponding click emanated from the street below.

"Shit, behind us!" The russian whirled and leveled his assault rifle at the noise. The others followed suit in short order.

"You sure? I didn't hear anything..." The larger man said.

"That's why I'm the surveillance expert," Spectre snarled. There was the ringing clatter of a cage sliding open rapidly, then heavy footfalls, too heavy to be human. Selene caught sight of reddish pink flesh glistening with some foul moisture. The quadrupedal behemoth of a creature stepped out of the shadows and let loose a frightful roar.

* * *

"Brawler!" Lupo shouted. The team was firing already, the clatter of gunshots ripped through the still air and the Wolfpack's leader winced. The raucous noise would attract every walker for miles around. It couldn't be helped. The brawler leapt from the shadows, unperturbed by the rain of bullets. Beltway took a grenade from his belt and primed it.

"Fire in the hole!" He shouted as it arced towards the brawler. Lupo ducked behind a decrepit car and felt the ground shake with the concussive blast. The explosion roared at her ears. Suddenly it was over her. She stared up astonished at the bloody creature, missing a forelimb now, glaring straight down at her with wild eyes. Lupo's hesitation was momentary. Lupo threw herself as far from the creature as possible, twisting in the air and squeezing the trigger of her rifle. Metal peppered the beast's flesh, tearing through inhumanly thick muscles and arteries. It leapt after her, remaining forelimb poised to impale.

"Get down!" Vector was there in a moment, materializing in a burst of static, long knife in hand. The creature passed directly over him and he plunged his knife upwards, tearing it through the brawler even as it fell. Then it lay still. Lupo struggled to her feet. The cloaked operative was wiping off his knife, eyeing the monster's body to ensure that it was truly dead. Four Eyes scurried past him in the blink of an eye with sampler in hand. They hadn't seen a brawler in months. When it didn't stir even as the american woman plunged her syringe into its tissue, Vector relaxed. He turned to her.

"Are you alright?" He asked. His true question: Were you infected? Lupo gave herself a once over. She had gotten the creature's blood on her torso when she had shot it at close range, but there were no tears in her attire or open cuts. Her mouth and eyes were safe behind her mask.

"I'm fine," She breathed. Composing herself, she took stock of her squad. Four Eyes was busying herself with the brawler. Bertha and Spectre were peering down the alley the Brawler had emerged from, clearing it for more hostiles. It was a futile act, she realized, the walker herds would be on them in minutes. Beltway was standing on the APC.

"We got walkers!" He shouted. Indeed, their growls were growing louder by the minute. It was time to leave. Karen gave the dilapidated apartment building a lingering look. Considering the state it was in, she didn't hold out much hope that Philippe and Michele would be there.

"Alright, everyone get into the APC!"

"Wait!" Surprisingly, it was Spectre that shouted. Lupo swiveled, expecting another brawler. Spectre's weapon was leveled not at the alley, but into the building. "Get out where we can see you! Slowly!" Silence greeted his demands. Lupo pointed her own weapon in the direction of the building and sidled up beside the russian.

"How many? Human?" She hissed.

"Three, they've got body heat." Then, shouting again, "Get out here!" Karen held her breath, hoping against all likelihood. Three figures emerged from the shadows. The first was clearly a man, old and stooped with hardy features and a submachine gun, the latter held aloft as a sign of peace. He had a scruffy white beard and mustache on his face and a beret that spoke of military service of some time ago. His faded dark green jacket added to the impression. Next to him came a much younger man with a mohawk of dark hair on his head and well tanned skin. He was simply dressed in cargo shorts and a purple polo shirt stretched in places over his muscular build. He held a pistol, but Lupo noted a number of knives strapped to his person. The final man was younger in age than the other two, barely more than a teenager, and clad in plain pants, a yellow t-shirt and a red cap. He was holding a shotgun loosely in his hand. Karen's heart sank, her children were clearly not among them.

"Easy now," The older man said slowly. "We don't want any trouble."

"What were you doing in that building?" Lupo demanded almost before she realized she was speaking.

"Scavenging for supplies." The man with the mohawk offered. "We're not a threat to you, we're just trying to get by."

"How many are in your group?" Spectre settled his sights on the old man.

"Just us three." The russian scoffed quietly.

"Yeah right... You'd tell us that."

"Hey!" The younger man spoke up for the first time with a southern drawl. He addressed Lupo directly. "We don't have time for this, lady! We got walkers running here like starv'in folk going for an all you can eat buffet. I ain't ever seen that, but my buddy Keith told me it wasn't pretty." Vector was at Lupo's ear like a ghost.

"He's right. We can't stay." He stated flatly. Lupo looked down for a moment. She knew the truth when she heard it. Karen leveled her gaze on the old man.

"Tell me something, old man, is there anybody in your group named Philippe or Michele? How long have you been in the city?" There was a long pause. The three strangers were caught off balance. Eventually the old man spoke up.

"We only got here a few weeks ago, and we haven't met anyone by those names around here." He eyed Karen curiously. "Who are they to you?"

"Lupo! We're out of time!" The growls had reached a crescendo, nearly swallowing the sound of Beltway's gunfire.

"Wolfpack, get in the APC now!" Lupo pushed Spectre's gun barrel down as she shouted. Her gaze fell on the old man. "They're my children." Karen said softly. Despite the din, the old man seemed to have heard her. His gaze softened and he turned to her after he had shepherded the younger men back into the building.

"Good luck in finding them. God knows you'll need it." Then he too was gone, perhaps to a backdoor inside. In moments, Lupo was back in APC. The once again plowed their way through the undead within the safety of their armored shell. The squad was quiet. They were all quite used to near brushes with death, it was a silence of rest rather than shock. Suddenly, Spectre moved to Lupo and produced a phone with an image on its screen.

"I took this in the alley, you should see this." Lupo examined the image. Tucked away in the alley was what appeared to be pieces of a chain link fence shining where they caught the moonlight. On closer inspection, she realized it was not a fence but a cage, an open cage. "That latch is electronic and new," Spectre explained. "That thing didn't wander here, it was let out when we got there."

"So who's holding the monster's leash?" Lupo muttered.

"Good question." Spectre agreed for once.

* * *

Selene had left the instant she had seen the brawler released. At the moment, she paused atop a ledge. Several blocks of low rooftops stretched out before her. Then she caught sight of her prey and was off. She could move faster, jump farther, but in many ways it reminded her of the long Death Dealer years. She was tracking a lycan. At least not human, she couldn't be sure what he was until she caught him. He was faster than the lower lycans she'd encountered most recently, clearly well fed. He was also wearing clothes, jeans and a brown jacket. Such a well kept lycan would need a consistent source of food. Combined with his unleashing of the brawler, as she had heard such monsters called, the beginnings of suspicion began to form. Regardless, he could not hope to outrun her. He didn't even realize he was being chased until she landed on his back and forced him down to the roof heavily. Selene heard a strangled yelp and the crunch of a breaking nose. She stepped off him and flipped him over with a swift kick. In a flash her sword was embedded in his shoulder and he howled in pain as the wound smoked.

"A lycan," She remarked nonchalantly gazing at him with the sort of loathsome curiosity one might reserve for an annoying bug. "What is a lycan doing here?" The man gasped in agony but his eyes fixed on Selene, or rather her pale blue eyes.

"Vampire," He croaked, "What the hell do you want?" Selene twisted the blade ever so slightly, summoning another yowl of pain from the lycan.

"I'm asking, you're answering," She knelt down closer. "What do the lycans want here?" A peculiar smile came over him and a chuckle rasped from bloody lips.

"You don't know anything, do you. We've been here all along." A warning went off in Selene's mind and she leapt as far as she could from the man, ripping the sword out as she went. His body convulsed for a moment, then there was a great flash of heat and light. A deafening roar washed over her ears and he was dead, but burning pieces remained. Selene could only stare. It seemed that there was much more to this city than met the eye.

* * *

"Fuck, we're lucky to be alive!" Logan panted. The trio had barely managed to escape the herds of walkers after the soldiers had so nicely not shot them dead.

"Yeah, we are, just don't go panicking everyone about it." Bill grumbled as he pushed open the parking lot entrance to the mall. They hadn't originally intended to use the mall as their base camp, but they found that the second floor of the structure could easily be made defensible once they cleaned out the walkers. They barricaded entrance to the level up save for the escalators, of which only one was left since they'd used a pipe bomb on the other.

"Really Bill? I can't tell anyone about this, come on! I got to build up some stories to tell Keith once I find him." Ellis complained. He had nearly been devoured twice on the way back, but the boy had luck in spades. Bill was about to give a biting reproach for his careless enthusiasm, but a deep voice called down from second floor.

"Ellis? That you down there?" The boy immediately brightened.

"Yeah, it's me Coach! Me, Logan, and Bill here, and you wouldn't believe what happened to us!" Logan gave long suffering groan and Bill smacked his forehead.

"That so?" Coach appeared over the second floor railing, an overweight, bald, black man that looked to be reaching the tail end of middle aged by years or stress. "Tell you what, get on up here and you can tell us all about it." Ellis led the way up the stalled escalator. Coach removed their haphazardly constructed gate to let them in and closed it behind them. Bill put his hand on Coach's shoulder.

"We need to talk." The other man's eyes lit up in grim understanding.

"Alright then, I'll tell the others." They left it at that. It wasn't before long that Ellis had most of their survivors grouped around him in the mattress store they all slept in, the place they had all gotten the most comfortable sleep they'd had in months. He regaled them with dramatic descriptions of the fight the soldiers had with the brawler with slight exaggerations of his own part in getting the soldiers to let them go. They laughed and teased, eager for some light heartedness amidst their grim existence.

In another portion of the level, the remainder of the survivors were gathered. They convened in their accustomed meeting spot, a music and DVD store clogged to the gills with disks nobody had ever bought. It provided some privacy. There were several subgroups amongst the survivors, a remainder of the fractured groups that had come to form their current community. Those leaders had come to form a council of sorts along with the other survivors they'd picked up along the way, five members in total.

"Alright, I guess what it comes down to, Bill, is whether or not you think those soldiers were part of a bigger group." Purna deduced for the group. A squad of heavily armed soldiers was bad enough. Anything more might be worth leaving the city.

"If they are, I think they went rogue. The leader said she was looking for her children." Bill was solemn and tired. It seemed to the others that the weight of his years finally came affected him at times like these. He cleared his throat. "There's one more thing, their vehicle had a Blackwatch symbol on it."

"Blackwatch? They're that viral defense military branch right?" Coach scratched his head speculatively.

"Well, they screwed the pooch to death on that one." Purna scowled.

"They're a lot more than you know." All eyes turned to the speaker, a pale woman with dark hair. Their gazes ranged from curious to suspicious. Coach spoke.

"Dana? If you know something we don't..." He trailed off. Dana looked down, considering her words carefully.

"Blackwatch used to work on viral experiments for the U.S. government. The whole New York outbreak? They used it as a test bed for viral weaponry." Her fierce gaze was leveled at each in turn, a fire within her none of her companions had seen. "I was there, me and Amaya both were."

"You never mentioned this-"

"Nobody here has exactly been giving their life stories, Purna." Bill faced the scowling australian, but studied Dana out of the corner of his eye. "What happened isn't the question we need to be asking. We need to be asking, what now?"

"We should avoid them as much as we can," Dana leaned forward in her seat. "Nothing good comes of involving ourselves in Blackwatch business."

"All things considered," Coach sighed and rubbed his head. "I agree, anyone else in favor?"

"I don't suppose raiding their supplies is on the table?" Purna huffed.

"They're a small army of trained killers with automatic weaponry. Even you don't like those odds." Bill grunted. "I'm with Dana on this."

"Fine," Purna sighed. She faced the up till now silent member of the council. "What about you, Michael? Any insights?" The young man hesitated, then stood.

"I think we all know what the most important thing is now," He took a breath. "Survival. We came here looking for more than that, we came here because the man on the radio promised a cure. We need that kind of hope. Our supplies are running short, though. That's just the way it is." He shrugged and glanced between Purna and Dana. "So I'm going to agree with not involving ourselves for now, but let's not rule anything out." Michael Corvin sat down.

"Well," mused Bill, "I guess that's that. Let's go tell the others."

* * *

Jacob O'brien took pride in his work. As such, he was meticulous. The balance of cost and benefit were carefully measured in his mind. Colonel Rooks knew this, it was why he had given him a blank check. O'brien could gauge exactly what was needed to complete a mission without risking too many resources. With resources more limited than ever, it was an essential skill of command. With a city as full of unknowns as this one, however, he preferred to err on the side of caution.

"We're ready, sir." O'brien glanced at the identical titans at his back. Each near nine feet tall, clad in armor that obscured their faces entirely, these were men infected with a modified strain of the Blacklight virus. They were valuable resources, but he could count on them to swat aside the Walkers and focus on whatever greater horrors they might encounter. No less important, they could keep up.

"Deploy, the retrieval mission is a go." He breathed into his radio. He set off at a loping pace. Before long, he outstripped any pace a normal man could match, leaping over rubble and launching himself off car hoods as the super soldiers behind him knocked aside the infected as if they weren't there in a singleminded charge. They were not the only infected agents serving Blackwatch.

* * *

"They've sent out their hounds." Linus remarked offhandedly. He could see them in the moonlight clear as day from his perch. From this low rooftop the entire street was visible to him. He took a glance over his shoulder at the snarling Lycans behind him. They hadn't bothered waiting to make the change.

"We're going to introduce ourselves," He shed his jacket and turned his gaze on the approaching soldiers. "Any chance to whittle down their ever so special super soldiers is one we should take." His eyes settled on the lead figure, smaller than the rest. "Leave the leader for me." His chest expanded with a deep breath, let loose as he fell towards the concrete. A smile tugged at his lips as his instincts began to take hold, eager for the hunt.


	3. A Night to Remember

_In which:_

_The Alpha attacks  
_

_The Wolf Mother meets the Prototype  
_

_The Wolfpack is divided  
_

_and the Death Dealer fights the Specialist  
_

* * *

The first warning Lieutenant O'brien had that they were under attack was the sound of yelping dogs. "That can't be, the Walkers would have gotten them by now..." It took him a split second to realize what he was truly hearing. "Lycans!" He shouted at the top of his lungs, stun baton whipped out and at the ready. Then the fiends were upon them. They poured off the rooftops like a demonic horde, a dozen lycans. Jacob's world was a blur of dark fur, fangs, and claws as he twisted from and evaded each attack, lashing out with his baton. The smell of scorched flesh singed his nostrils and the yowling of beasts in pain assaulted his ears. In a brief moment of calm, O'brien brought his compact forearm mounted grenade launcher up to his eyes and tapped its settings. Thankfully, most of his ammunition were silver fragmentation grenades. He knelt and pushed off from the ground with all his might. The Specialist rocketed through the air, up a full story, and landed heavily on a wide window ledge. His teeth were gritted and he gripped the masonry until his knuckles turned white as tried to maintain his balance. He breathed and took stock of the mayhem below. He winced as a Project Orion soldier went down under a sea of rending claws and snapping jaws. Swears gave way to shrieks over his radio, crimson spray jetting from the writhing bodies. Jacob steadied his breath and leveled his grenade launcher.

"Strength, agility, all in a normally proportioned body." His head whipped around. There was another on the ledge, a man with a brown hair and wearing a bullet proof vest. He was smiling. "I suppose that makes you a Specialist." O'brien gritted his teeth and reached for his baton, not quite fast enough. Something hard impacted him in the lower back, his armor and strengthened biology protected his body from what would have been deadly blow but his balance was vulnerable yet. His grip was torn away and he tumbled back to earth with a shout of astonishment. An unfortunate lycan broke his fall, he heard a pained howl and a flash of dark fur. The baton was in his hand and stabbing down viciously in flash. The beast writhed as the burning pain seared into its flesh and spasmed to the electric stream. With his free hand, O'brien reached under and around the lycan's head. A single sharp twist and it knew no more. Jacob rolled to his feet and turned to find himself nose to nose with the lycan man. His smile had not wavered. He felt a great force on his chest and suddenly he was flying again. This time fate was not so merciful and his landed bodily on the concrete. The lycan was above him in a moment, but Jacob lashed out with a howl. He heard a hiss of pain and smelled the burned flesh as he got to his feet.

"What are the lycans doing here?" He snarled, baton leveled at the lycan man. The burn was already healing and the man's self assured smile had returned. Perhaps it had never left.

"You don't really expect me to answer that, do you?" The man had raised an eyebrow. Jacob gritted his teeth. His grip tightened on his baton, and his finger tensed on the trigger of his grenade launcher. The din of wolves and the rapid swearing of the surviving soldier filled his hearing as they attacked him and fed on the fallen.

"You don't expect to be able to kill me without transforming, do you?" He shot back with venom.

"Some things..." The man began to creep forward, slowly with as great a predatory air as Jacob had ever seen. The wolves avoided them, giving their Alpha space for his work, "...require some finesse." He lunged. O'brien pulled the trigger. The metal sphere flew straight at the lycan's chest, but then the lycan was gone. The grenade hit the building and flipped end over back along the concrete. "That's a miss. Getting twitchy?"

"Hell no." The grenade began to hiss, a white smoke pouring into the air and quickly enshrouding the world around it in an opaque curtain. The lycan's eyes twitched away for but several precious moments. It was enough. Jacob tore away through the mass of snarling beasts, summoning yelps of pain by his deadly passage. "Colonel, this is O'brien! Do you copy?!" The response was filled with static.

"O'brie...can't hear...position...breaking..." Then it fizzled out all together. The lieutenant swore loudly as he fired several more smoke grenades into the melee with a few silver frag grenades for good measure. The battlefield was hazy chaos. The wolves wheeled in confusion, the smoke stifling their sight and smell.

"Sergeant! Do you copy?!" O'brien screamed into his headset, eyes darting everywhere for the human form lycan that had attacked him. For several long moments it was just him in war's fog, the unnatural beasts whipping about just past the edge of clarity and blood drunk howls answering one another in an endless cacophony.

"Lieutenant, reporting." One super soldier was alive, a blessing. He sounded like death, but he was alive.

"Sergeant, we are pulling out! There's a series of shops directly east of our position. Make a hole, soldier!" Jacob shoved his baton through the eye of a lycan that came too close. "Now!" There was a crackle of static.

"With pleasure, sir." The soldier growled. O'brien headed east just in time to see the surviving soldier slam his shoulder right through the glass front of a jewelry store. He couldn't see the back wall of the storefront cave in to the soldier's bulk, but he could certainly hear it, even over the confused din. If his ears could hear it, so would the lycans. He removed two grenades from his ammo belt, one silver and the other smoke, and bounded after careening mutant. He could hear the wolves changing, focusing, they became excited and enraged. He could hear it in the way their cries grew closer more ravenous, nipping closer at his heals with every step. He dropped the grenades, silver first, then smoke. Its detonation failed to drown out the yowls of pain it drew. By the time the smoke from his second ordnance was dispersed, both he and the soldier were out of sight.

* * *

"We have a trail, we can follow them." Linus hardly listened to his subordinate's council, his face an inscrutable facade. In his mind he repeated a single instant of memory over and over again. Amidst the haze, he had nearly had the Specialist in his grasp. Hand outreached, nails begun the turn to claws, nearly to the beating blood beneath the skin, he saw a silver sphere drop, and was caught between contradictory purposes: to jump away and live, or to leap forward and take his prey to the ground, hoping to avoid the brunt of the blast. He had chosen to flee. Did that make him a coward or merely prudent enough not to be ruled by his predatory instincts? "Sir? Linus?"

"Quiet," He frowned. "How many of our wolves are lost?"

"...Eight," The lycan's voice was hesitant, sensing the foul mood of his superior. "Another two wounded."

"How many by Blackwatch and how many by the Walkers?"

"three by the larger soldiers, another three by the small one. The injured have silver shrapnel in their wounds from his grenades..."

"...And two were killed by Walkers keeping them away from us here." Linus finished with a heavy sigh. "Retreat, for now. We can't take on both with only three fighting lycans." Her jerked his head toward the groaning lumps of bloody fur and muscle close by. "Each of you grab a wounded, we return to the vault..." His gaze lingered on the trail of rubble that marked the Blackwatch soldier's path. "...I wouldn't worry. The ruckus they caused will attract at least as many Walkers to them as to us this time of night."

* * *

An APC has only so much fuel.

Lying still inside a metal box while Walkers clawed at the exterior would not allow anyone sleep, and they could not drive forever. Lupo had realized there was only one course left to take: to make camp. Finding a suitable site had proved a challenge, but eventually they settled on the second level from the roof of a large parking structure. They'd arranged the APC and several nearby cars in a semicircle barrier, setting a sentry atop the APC in shifts. Lupo had taken the first shift and found herself watching the camp as much as the darkened concrete cavern of the structure. Most of the Wolfpack had yet to actually sleep or even make the attempt. She could see Bertha lying against the APC, apparently asleep but the born sadist was one of the few people Lupo found difficult to read. Only Beltway seemed out cold, slumped against the concrete barrier that separated the level's floor from the cool night air. Four Eyes had set herself up in the far corner, where a brown sedan met the barrier. Lupo could catch glimpses of vials, syringes, and the scientist's compact computer, she rigged car batteries they'd found along the way to give the device a charge, but the Wolf Mother knew her squad well enough to realize that she wouldn't be able to understand what Four Eyes was doing even if she could see it unless the viral genius deigned to explain it. Then there was Spectre. The russian was standing at barrier, staring over the dark city. Every once in a while she would see his hand move to his mask and twist a knob, altering the filters through which he viewed the ruined metropolis.

Personally, Karen learned more than enough from the city by simply lending an ear to the night air and the rasping howls it carried.

"Lupo," Vector, a voice from nowhere as usual. "We need to talk." Lupo half raised her gun when his fingers brushed her shoulder.

"About Spectre?"

"Yes," Karen sighed. She had known this was coming.

"Do you think he'll try to leave?" Vector emerged into her view with a shudder of static as his optical cloak disengaged.

"Not unless he has a definite plan for survival. He's pragmatic."

"Which is why he is against coming to this city." Karen felt the squirming snake of guilt wind itself in her chest. She had promised to look out for her team. Bringing them to this city was hardly conducive to that goal, and she knew it. "He'll try to sway the others to his side, then." The cloaked operative nodded.

"Bertha doesn't seem phased by this city, that said, she doesn't like it either. She could swing either way. Beltway would prefer to leave, but vastly prefers you to Spectre." His mask shifted away from her direction and caught the moonlight in the reflection on his goggles. "The only one I'm unsure of is Four Eyes. This city is like a candy store to her, but she would follow Spectre if he found a sufficiently large carrot to lead her with."

"And you?" Lupo found herself questioning, her gaze locked on Vector now. "Should I question your loyalty?". His mask shifted back towards her, becoming once again enshrouded in the shadow of his hood. For a long moment, he was silent. When he spoke, Karen realized she had been holding her breath.

"My teacher was the best agent Umbrella ever had, he achieved every objective set before him no matter the cost. I still see him as a role model." Vector paused. Lupo noticed a shift in his body language. He was strangely uncomfortable. It was well hidden, but she had not become a squad leader without being able to read her team. "However, each and every member of his team died. He gained a reputation as a sole survivor." Vector sat down on top of the APC next to her, his gaze ever meeting hers. "You aren't as good a shot as him. You aren't as strong as him and you aren't as fast as him, but you have one skill he never did." His grip found her shoulder, firm but not painful. "You keep your team alive."

"I..." Few things had ever left Karen speechless. As Lupo, even fewer things had managed that feat. When she found her voice, Karen could only think of one thing to say. "Thank you, Vector." Though it hardly seemed sufficient. The cloaked soldier only turned his gaze towards the darkness of the parking structure.

"It's only the truth based on observation." Lupo faced the shadows as well and searched for something to say. She found something else.

"Brawler," She hissed and rose to a crouch. The muzzle of her suppressed submachine gun rose with her, leveled at the shadows. She could see it faintly by the way its sickly white and red flesh glistened in the moon's light. It trundled up the ramp from the lower level with a lumbering motion on all four limbs, the wet thudding steps accompanied by the growls issuing from its razored maw.

"Another." Vector was heard but not seen, having already slipped into his cloak and out of sight. Lupo could see the second coming into view behind the first, another pair of bloody red eyes in the dark.

"Upper ramp," That voice, feminine, german, steady and cold as a surgeon's cut, belonged to Bertha. She hadn't been sleeping after all, or Vector had roused her. Lupo glanced and felt her throat go dry. Two more of the deceptively slow moving creatures were making their way down from the roof of the structure. Lupo packed Karen away with her emotions and set her tactical mind into motion.

"Vector, wake Beltway, quietly." She whispered softly into her radio. Killing all four creatures would be difficult, probably impossible without explosives. "Bertha, drag Four Eyes away from her chemistry set." It occurred to her that the scientist might have derived something useful from the samples she'd taken earlier. "Spectre-"

"What the fuck?!" The russian's horrifyingly loud profanity was shortly followed by the sound of a very solid impact on the side of the APC and breath escaping someone's lungs, the camp side of the APC. Lupo whirled and set her eyes on the silhouette occupying Spectre's former vigil. She didn't need to ask questions, that he had thrown the russian ten feet with little effort proved he was no human. Her finger pressed on the trigger and held. Muffled zips synchronized with each bullet as it tore through flesh and blood. Not just her, she could see Beltway with his sidearm flashing. Bertha tended to Spectre while Vector's whereabouts were anyone's guess. Four Eyes had her back pressed to the brown sedan. Her rifle was in hand but not firing. Her face had a peculiar look of fascination, one that seemed close to... awe.

"Stop, it's no good." It took a moment after she had released the trigger for Lupo to realize what Vector meant and what had Four Eyes so enthralled. Each and every wound inflicted on the man by the bullets was gone. A pool of red fluid at his feet gave evidence to their existence, but they must have closed immediately. Not even his clothes were damaged or stained. Then she noticed that she could no longer hear the footsteps of the Brawlers, who should have come bounding at the sound of gunfire. A glance over her shoulder told her why. They had come to a halt, staring at the camp ravenously but coming not a step closer as if waiting for some signal. It was with a creeping sense of recognition that Lupo finally scrutinized the man's face: relatively young, unusually but not inhumanely tall, muscular, African descent, shaved head, hardened features. It was a face she had seen in briefings during the Wolfpack's brief stint as part of Blackwatch.

"James Heller," She breathed. Beltway had stopped firing.

"Got it in one." His deep tones seemed to carry farther and clearer than they should have. The nonhuman creature that was James Heller cycled between each member of the squad. Those dark eyes even seemed to settle on a patch of empty air Lupo could only presume was Vector's hiding spot. "I don't have time for games, got it? So listen up," He took a step forward. Lupo's grip on her rifle tightened in nervous anticipation. She did her best to stamp out the emotion and clear her head. "Which one of you is in charge?" She almost volunteered herself but thought better of it. In a flash of electric light, Vector appeared not five feet away from the super human, exactly where Heller's eyes had fixed upon moments before.

"Why?" The cloaked soldier asked. His voice was challenging, but he had no weapon drawn. He likely knew how little good it would do. Heller snorted.

"Fine, I don't really care. I just have a warning." He looked at Vector. "You aren't Blackwatch. I can see that much and its enough for me not to kill you on sight." His eyes scanned the rest of the team. "I don't care what you do, just stay the fuck away from the survivors, you know who I'm talking about." A vicious glare settled on Lupo. "Got it?"

"We heard you." Lupo said far more calmly than she felt. "We're not interested in hurting the survivors."

"Good, keep it that way. If you don't," He gestured toward he muted growls from the Brawlers. "Those guys will be the least of your problems." He turned and stepped up onto the concrete barrier. "One question," he turned his head to look behind him. "Who's leading the Blackwatch troops?" Lupo and Vector exchanged glances. She gave the slightest of nods. Blackwatch was not their friend.

"Colonel Rooks," Heller raised an eyebrow at Vector.

"Rooks? Douglas Rooks? You serious?" He sounded genuinely amused. At Vector's confirming nod, he shook his head and muttered under his breath. "Son of a bitch, I figured that bastard was dead."

"You know him?" He didn't glance up at Lupo's question, instead turning his eyes to the night sky.

"Back before the whole world went sideways..." He seemed lost in long gone events. His head lowered, shaking himself from his reverie. "Just remember to stay away from the survivors, and we won't have any problems." Then he was gone, over the edge before Lupo had a chance to blink. She sprinted to the brink and peered over the edge. He had simply vanished altogether.

"The Brawlers are retreating." Bertha reported quietly. Indeed, the Wolf Mother could see their hulking forms disappearing without ceremony into the shadows.

"What the fuck have we gotten ourselves into?!" Spectre groaned from his prone position, propped up against the APC.

"Deep shit, hombre." Beltway was peering over the barricade with Bertha, watching the viral monstrosities retreat. Karen could not help but agree. She could not help but feel they had fallen onto something far bigger than even Blackwatch may have suspected. She had to focus and remember why she was here.

"Michele, Philipe," The darkened city was splayed out before her, like a corpse full of maggots eating the dead. Her voice was quiet, barely more than a whisper. Any louder and someone might hear. Any louder and her voice might break. "...I will find you." But morale is a burden of leadership.

"Everyone try to get some rest, we leave an hour after dawn." Lupo told them with a stony expression and a methodical air. Tomorrow, the Wolfpack would be prowling yet again.

* * *

Dawn would arrive in only a handful of hours and Selene was preparing to end her search. Though she no longer needed to fear the daylight, old habits were hard to break and her daughter was expecting her. As a Death Dealer, she had been trained to absorb details quickly and comprehensively, a skill only enhanced by the blood of Corvinus. As such her search's were both quick and meticulous. It was only this laborious attention to detail that had allowed her to notice that the walkers below her were not wandering aimlessly. Not all of them, but a few walked purposefully and as she followed the stream of mobile corpses the few became herds and hordes of the creatures, all converging. When she heard the sound of explosions and swearing, she knew it to be a siege. Selene alighted atop the rooftop of a building just across the street from the apparent epicenter of the cadaverous mass. It was a gas station, or what was left of one. The pumps had been knocked down and trampled by the sheer press of bodies, the glass facade was broken. The groaning and growling horde was held at bay by the efforts of a mammoth of a man, nine feet of muscle and armor. All his strength went towards holding a makeshift barricade of metal shelves between himself and the ravening corpses that clawed at it mindlessly. Behind him stood another man, tall but in the order of normal men rather than the monster before him. The monstrous man was masked but Selene could see this man's face clearly in all its scarred glory. More importantly, she could see the insignia emblazoned upon both of their uniforms. It was something David had shown her and she had already seen it once tonight.

"Blackwatch," She breathed. There was a muzzle flash and a bang from a device on the smaller man's arm. Soon after, an explosion ripped a gap in the ranks of the walking dead with a spray of limbs and decaying flesh, a gap quickly filled once more by the heedless monstrosities. At the sound of the explosion, more might come. These soldiers would die, Selene could see that plain as day. Her question remained.

Should she help them?

She knew what these men had done, the purge and what she had heard about the outbreaks in New York gave testimony to the sort men they were. They would kill her as an abomination if they could. But there was more to it, wasn't there? A unit like Blackwatch would not come to this city without a reason. She thought back to the lycan that had killed himself rather than allow her to question him. If Blackwatch and the lycans were enemies, the enemy of her enemy might be useful. If they were aligned, they might be able to tell her just what was going on in this city. Her decision was made. Selene cast her eyes over the field of battle. A frontal assault was out of the question. The soldier would fire on her and she would have to fight her way through the horde. Actually, she was surprised by his lack of fire now. He seemed to only fire into the walkers periodically, as if busy with something else. She knelt and peered into the structure as best she could from her high vantage point. The soldier would back towards the super soldier maintaining the barrier, then charge as if to ram something.

"Let's see if I can lend a hand..." In an instant she was moving across rooftops again, skirting the press of dead from above. Selene scanned the building before her until she found what she was looking for, a skylight. It wouldn't get her into the gas station but it would get her into the adjacent structure. With little ceremony, Selene leapt in the air and simply allowed herself to plunge through the dirty pane of glass boots first. The sound of their shattering was easily drowned out be the walkers and whatever cuts she may have sustained healed before they even had a chance to stain her alabaster skin crimson. She landed easily, hardly bending her knees to absorb the force of impact as the stained wooden floor shook from it. As she stood, the vampire surmised that this particular building had been abandoned long before walkers had been manifested. The cavernous room was utterly bare save for the wispy ghosts of cob webs and faded bare brick walls. This was the third floor of the structure. She needed to be on the ground floor.

Selene swiftly located the staircase, a rickety contraption she was expecting to crumble with each step, and made way to the second floor landing. The second floor was as dilapidated and bare as the third had been. The first floor was much the same save that the creaking wood was replaced with cold concrete. Weeds forced their way up through the many cracks making a spider web of the floor. Just as her boot made the last step from the stairs to the floor, the far wall shuddered subtly, prompting a cascade of dust from above. Selene rushed to the wall and came to graceful halt, putting her ear to the bricks and concentrating on all her superhuman hearing could communicate. The first thing she heard was sputtering crackly of electricity charring flesh.

"Sergeant Powell! If you let another walker past that barricade I'll shoot you myself!" The man sounded loud, high strung, and exhausted. That she heard him so clearly, Selene deduced that he had already pounded his way through the wall of the gas station. Only the brick construction of this building stood as barrier to his escape.

"Yes... Sir," Grunted a second voice. It had a muffled filtered quality, as if spoken through a gas mask. Through the brick it was nearly unintelligible to even her ears, but Selene made it out all the same. Soon she heard the thud of heavy footsteps getting louder and faster. She drew back her hand and formed a fist, still listening carefully to each step, timing her actions. Then, in a flash of shattered brick and dust, she plunged her fist through the wall and grabbed ahold of the soldier's collar as he nearly rammed his way through the brickwork. Bricks fell with cacophonous noise as the soldier's head and shoulder emerged from the wall with a heavy cough.

Selene tightened her grip, and pulled.

With the creaking and groaning of stressed architecture, the man was yanked full force through the wall, sending him rolling head over heels into the room. Selene closed the distance with quick steps, drawing her sword as she went. The soldier stirred from his stunned state with a groan. Selene noted a long baton of some kind on the nearby floor and a launcher of some kind on his arm. He was almost able to lift his launcher before her foot firmly planted his arm to the ground. The tip of her sword rested lightly on his throat and her pale ice eyes met his dark ones. She saw recognition.

"Tell me why Blackwatch is in this city." A great heaving sounded behind her.

"Sir?" The muffled sound of the large soldier's voice was closer now, along with the growling of walkers. He must have retreated. Suddenly she was looking down the barrel of a pistol.

"Back off, vamp. I haven't got time for you." Her hesitance lasted but a moment.

"I want answers." She moved the sword to take the pistol from his hand, perhaps a few fingers with it. Suddenly a blinding pain erupted in her forehead. The force of impact and surprise caused her head to snap back with a spray of red fluid. He had shot her. Merely nerves? No, he had reacted to her movements with her sword, movements that should have been too quick and subtle for a human. She gritted her teeth in anger and pain as her body pushed the bullet out, ringing metallically as it bounced to the ground, and her flesh knit itself together. By the time the next shots rang out, Selene was already moving. She whirled to the other side of the man and grabbed the pistol in her crushing grip. The muzzle flashed with one more bang before the metal gave way and was left nonfunctional. The soldier howled as his fingers were crushed along with the gun, a bloody mess of bone and tissue. The grenade launcher arm, now free from her pinning boot, groped blindly for the baton. Selene didn't give him the chance. She grabbed him by the collar and hauled him up into the air until his boots dangled above the ground. "Tell me why Blackwatch is here! Now! What is so special about this city?"

"You don't know?" The soldier scoffed as he attempted to dislodge her grip with his uninjured hand. "Maybe you can start, who the hell are you and why are you here? Are you with the lycans?"

"No," She said flatly. He groaned as she hoisted him another inch in the air. "If you don't tell me what you know, I have other was of finding out..." For the first time, something other than surprise and rage broke through his facade if only for a moment. It was the fear of one that dreaded becoming something other than human. If she sank her teeth into his neck, there could be no alternative result though in truth she had never gained the blood memories of a human from feeding on them. Perhaps it required fresh blood, or perhaps it required the vampire viral strain present in the blood. She knew it mostly a bluff. This man, however, clearly knew enough about vampires to grasp her meaning and was not willing to take the chance.

"Just what are you after, vamp?" The man growled. "We followed the radio transmissions, and that's all you're getting out of me."

"I think not..." Selene cut herself off. She could feel the vibrations behind her even as the roaring dead threatened to drown out its audibility. She was half turned to face the opening in wall when a great force impacted her midriff. Her grip on the soldier was an immediate loss. The air was driven from her lungs and she found herself weightless for several moments. Then old brickwork gave way at her back and more pain erupted. She gasped and forced herself to sit up despite the pain. She had gone right through the wall.

"Where the hell were you, Powell?!" The goliath of a soldier had already turned toward his commander's reprimand. The soldier was glaring at her out of the corner of his eye as he adjusted the launcher on his arm.

"Sorry, sir, the walkers-" His superior's eyes flickered away from her and widened.

"Shit!" He leveled his launcher at the gap and the growing growls. The concussive noise of a grenade detonation and a plume of dust exited the gap. "Move, sergeant, we're getting out of here!" He barked. His gaze returned to Selene. The barrel of the launcher followed suit. Selene scrambled to her feet with a surge of adrenaline. The barrel flared. Suddenly her world was one of agony, raucous noise and tumbling brick.

* * *

"I have an offer." Spectre was roused to awareness by those clipped words. Ever since his head had made a dent in the APC thanks to Heller's casual show of force he had been swimming between lucidity and unconsciousness. He had been advised not to move, so he had slept, or something that passed for sleeping, slumped against the APC.

"A fine way to get yourself killed." He muttered weakly. He forced his eyelids open and they nearly shut themselves again to the dawn glare. The sky was a blaze of orange and red, his awakener a slender silhouette. Spectre was a man of great experience in the shadowy realm of deniable missions, espionage, and hired killers. Waking with a pounding head, a bright light in one's eyes and an obscured speaker making him an opening offer was usually a bad situation to be in. This was no longer that realm, though, was it? That realm was one of ghosts and shadows, a world everyone involved wanted to stay hidden. Spectre could just barely make the dark shapes of the city skyline, dark decaying structures that had once been home to civilians just going about their day to day lives never realizing the intrigue that coursed through their world like blood vessels in a body. Their world was gone, and that meant Spectre's world was dead as well. Nothing needed hiding anymore. They were camped out with an APC in a parking structure for crying out loud. Spectre was not sentimental, nor had he ever considered any place home even before leaving the KGB, but he knew himself well enough know that he belonged in the shadows. Without shadows, what was he left with? Enough sense to be suspicious of Four Eyes when she suddenly decides to break her science freak policy of hardly saying more than a single word to him, apparently.

"I know you want out of this city. Well, Spectre, I can help you make that happen." He was forced to admit, however, that she certainly knew how to make an interesting opening proposition. His hand snaked up to his mask and adjusted it slightly. The glare became somewhat more bearable and he was able to make out his teammate's face. It was a pretty face, he supposed, but there was coldness to her eyes that made one feel like a specimen under a microscope.

"Talk," He said gruffly. She knelt down in front of him and he saw a vial containing something red materialize in her hand. She brought it up next to her face.

"To get out of this city, you need at least some of us with you. You know that your chances of surviving out there alone are much smaller. Well, I can get you that security." The Russian operative clenched his teeth in irritation and winced at the dull throb in his head the act triggered.

"Get to the point, are you offering to follow me or what?!" Four Eyes didn't flinch at his snarl. She only pressed one finger to her lips.

"Beltway and Vector are siphoning gas from the cars on the other levels, but Lupo and Bertha are just on the other side of camp, you wouldn't want them overhearing, would you?" Spectre felt a great urge to strike the woman, but swallowed it. She was right. "As for following you, maybe. I was talking about something else." She gave the vial a little shake. "Did you see the Brawlers last night, Vladmir? The way they did what James Heller wanted them to? Imagine if we could do the same."

"Are you insane?!" Spectre failed to contain himself. "I know the Blacklight briefings as well as you do, it would kill us or worse!" The throbbing again, he clenched his fists to keep himself from groaning. The American woman snorted contemptuously.

"I'm not talking about self injection, you idiot. I'm talking about attuning a Brawler to our own genetic code." A smile grew on her face and her eyes grow more distant as her thoughts faced inward. "I can already make an infected attack anything besides us, what happens if we take it a step farther? Something more permanent?" Understanding bloomed in Spectre's mind and he was struck dumb. It was mad, that much was without doubt, under normal circumstances he would have said no, maybe even shot her, but...

Nothing had been normal for a very long time, and death was inevitable as long as they stayed in this city. He was silent for a very long time.

"You're sure this could work?" His voice was low and quiet, but he had no doubt she would hear him. She rolled her eyes, but he saw a smile in them. Four Eyes knew she had him.

"Nothing is sure, but do have something better lined up?" Spectre gave her a withering look then sighed heavily.

"What do you want?"

"Materials," She glanced over her shoulder. "But we'll discuss that later. Just be ready." Suddenly she was gone and Spectre saw Lupo walk out from two of the cars. She cast a curious look first at Four Eyes' retreating form and then back at Spectre. He returned the look blankly until she moved on and his gaze sunk to the floor. He had a sinking feeling in his gut that made him feel an awful lot like Faust. What choice did he have?

* * *

Her reality was a spinning haze of heavy shadows and piercing light. Her bones ached as tactile sensation slowly returned to her. There was an immense weight on her body, her mind vaguely realized that the bright light was coming through gaps in that weight, sunlight. When her ears registered a growling noise, awareness came to Selene in a rush. With a spasm of instinctual effort, her torso erupted from the pile of brick and she feverishly pulled, kicked, and writhed her way to her feet.

That was when the Walker reached her.

It had lunged at her before she could even fully turn towards it. Selene was caught off balance and tumbled to the ground. Her instincts saved her from a mauling as her forearm slide under her attacker's neck. For a moment she simply stared at the thing. The face was gaunt, translucent sickly skin pulled taught over it's skull, a chunk of flesh was missing from its cheek, offering a second window into its fetid maw. The throat was a ragged mess of gray red tissue behind a cage of half missing half rotten brown teeth. Its breath triggered her gag reflex as the thing roared hoarsely, the heavy smell of old rot. Its bloody broken nails had just begun to rake the leather of her body suit when her hand found purchase and twisted. The thing's neck broke with a dry snap.

Selene shoved the dead weight off to the side and panted for a long moment. When she heard more rasping growls approaching, self awareness kicked in and she was on her feet in a moment. She spied a sword hilt beneath several bricks and kicked them aside. Sword in hand, she leapt upwards in the alley to a fire escape. Another leap and she had landed lightly on the rooftop. Then Selene finally had time to put events together.

The soldier with the grenade launcher had shot at her, that much she remembered. She might have survived and healed even if he had hit her, but her clothes wouldn't have and they were only singed. The grenade had hit the ceiling, she decided, close enough to knock her through the wall and shower her in debris. That would also explain the unconsciousness. She straightened and cast her eyes over the dawning metropolis. Eve would be awake and worrying now. Selene had meant to be back before the sun rose. Her eyes caught on something darting across the street a block aware. It took her a moment to realize it was a man, an older one with a green beret denoting military service clutching a bag under his arm, supplies no doubt. She hesitated. Her Death Dealer instincts told her to pursue him, to interrogate him, but she had another set of instincts now. She was, though she still found it had to believe sometimes, a mother. She could not could not let her daughter stew and worry as long as she wished, especially considering that Eve would likely do something rash, like follow her into the city regardless of David's objections.

"I'll find you later," She muttered under her breath and glanced at the buildings, setting the place firmly in her memory. With luck, she would be able to track the human later. With a deep breath to steady herself, she was away, running and leaping toward the city limits and her daughter.

* * *

"Please tell me you're kidding, lieutenant." Colonel Rooks was pacing a furrow into the floor of his mobile command center. O'brien could almost hear his teeth grinding together. He and Sergeant Powell had made it back to home base scant minutes ago and Rooks had been grilling him every step to the command center. "Lycans? You were attacked by lycans?! And then a vampire?!"

"That's right sir," O'brien said for what seemed the hundredth time. All the same, his expression was one of stony seriousness. "And these weren't half starved Ferals, these were full sized healthy well fed lycans. The vampire was wasn't just well fed, she must must have been an old one, she pulled me through a damn wall and picked me up like I was a rag doll." Jacob knew that the failure of the mission could not be laid at his feet, at least not entirely. In his heart, however, he blamed his inability to anticipate. He had thought he was prepared for the unknown, but he was too used to Ferals, Creepers, and Walkers. It had been far too long since something truly formidable had threatened Blackwatch. "What's more, they seem to have some sort of jamming in the city, that's why our radios cut out." Rooks had been silent for some time now, frantically planning their next course of action, no doubt. The Colonel stopped and spread his hands flat over a map of the city.

"If they got you not long after you left, they know where we are. They could have attacked us outright if they had the numbers... Or they were sacrificing surprise and taking out our Project Orion soldiers first." He tapped his finger over the segment of map that signified their own location. "I want patrols in a four block radius of the base, we need to know if and when their coming. Hand select a few more to go into the city, we'll never find out what's going on if we hunker down and cover our ears, tell them to keep a low profile this time, and lieutenant?"

"Yes sir?" O'brien had a sinking feeling in his gut.

"You'd better get it right this time."


End file.
